


There's Got to Be More Than Just to Despair (It Goes Beyond)

by catwalksalone



Series: Beyond the Gulag [3]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Angst, Casual Sex, Coitus Interruptus, Developing Relationship, Episode Related, M/M, Self-Loathing, mentions of canon relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 03:49:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6179074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catwalksalone/pseuds/catwalksalone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On their way to Mick's last port of call, Ray has something that Len needs. Ray's already been dead today; it's not like things can get much worse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There's Got to Be More Than Just to Despair (It Goes Beyond)

**Author's Note:**

> This one takes place somewhere after the discussion of what to do with Mick in 107 Marooned and the end scene. Title borrowed from The Tragically Hip's About This Map.

Ray sat on his bed, leaning against the wall, tablet wedged against bent knees. He'd meant to catch up on recording the suit modifications he'd made for his unexpected EVA, but found himself playing a mindless game involving dots and squiggles instead. It took up precisely the right amount of brain capacity that meant there wasn't enough left to fixate on the second when he'd accepted the inevitability of his own death and fallen toward it without a fight. It had been the first peace he'd felt in an unfathomably long time and Ray had no intention of exploring what that meant. His crew ( _his_ crew) had been safe: what else mattered?

Of course, it turned out they were not so safe after all, but no one had been expecting Mick. Maybe they should have been: the warning signs had been there since those six hours had stretched into an interminable week, Mick's anger at his forced removal from 2046 scorching anyone who strayed close enough. It wasn't as if they'd been best buds, but they'd come to some sort of understanding, or at least he'd thought they had. Yet another thing to add to the list of Ray Palmer's Screw-ups, he supposed. But whatever sense of betrayal he'd felt had to be nothing on what Snart was going through. 

If Ray were totally honest, he'd admit to being jealous of the bond between them. No matter what he thought of them as individuals, there was no faulting the loyalty they shared. He'd never that with anyone: the sense that he was being protected as much as he was protecting. He'd thought he'd had it with Anna, but in the end he'd failed her and had been left behind to live with that every day. As for Team Arrow, there was a small, spiteful part of him that imagined that Snart wouldn't have given up on Mick, would have torn apart the world looking for proof he was alive or dead and taken way less than six months about it. He wasn't proud of the thought, pushing it down as deep as it would go, but it was still there, no matter how he tried to ignore it. Whatever Snart's plan for Mick it was going to be brutal for both of them. Maybe Ray had died today, but he'd definitely gotten the better end of the deal. 

He'd gotten kissed, too. So there was that. Kissed by an older woman if you were counting reincarnations. What Kendra must know he couldn't even imagine. Wow. Ray smiled, stretching out his legs. A little awesome, a little disconcerting, a whole bunch of unexpected. His finger strayed on the tablet sending a squiggle in the wrong direction and the dots he'd cleared sprang back like a rash. He squinted at the screen--there had to be a better angle. 

The door slid open and Ray flicked his gaze up. It took him a second to recalibrate from his hopeful expectation that Kendra was making move number two to the actuality of Snart standing in his doorway, hesitating. His head was half-turned away as if he were planning his escape route and then he seemed to make up his mind, striding towards Ray, snatching the tablet from his hand and tossing it onto the bed as the door closed behind him. He straddled Ray's thighs, grabbing the back of his hair and tugging it hard, Ray's head jerking up to meet a bruising kiss. The slide of Snart's tongue on Ray's lips sent shudders careening through his body. Ray fought against it, forcing his logical brain into coherence. This wasn't...He brought his hands up to Snart's shoulders and shoved him away.

Snart growled. 

"Uh, okay?" said Ray, arms straining as Snart pushed down on him. "Easy, tiger. What do you think you're doing? There's the whole me and Kendra situation?"

Snart sat up abruptly and Ray's arms fell to his sides, useless. "Oh, puh- _lease_. You share one kiss and you think you're exclusive? May I remind you that you kissed me first and I don't see a ring?" He waggled his hand in Ray's face.

"Hilarious. Also, you kissed _me_ , if I recall."

"Did I ask you to contribute? I did not." Snart bent and kissed him again. 

The whole week since the incident in the Medbay Ray hadn't once been alone with Snart. He hadn't been sure who was avoiding whom, but he figured it was probably for the best either way. Things were weird enough with Rip holed up in his office, Mick prowling the ship like a caged and wounded beast, and Jax proving exactly how much he was totally cool about the Kendra thing (shit, _Jax_ ), without any extra bleedthrough weirdness from whatever the hell it was he and Snart were doing together. The sensible thing to do would be to stop this now, push Snart away and get him the hell out of his quarters. Get the hell out of his own quarters if Snart refused to go. But Snart's hands were warm on the back of his neck and his arm and he didn't want to stop. He could tell himself that it was scientific interest to see exactly where Snart was going with it this time, to add a data point to the set that might eventually flick on the light bulb, but that was so much bullshit. His dick wanted in on whatever came next and that was as deep as it got.

Snart's hands slid down Ray's sides and he bunched Ray's tee in his hands, tugging it upwards. Ray lifted his arms on autopilot and still managed to be surprised that Snart had to stop kissing him to get the shirt past his head. Snart balled the material and tossed it over his shoulder. He looked down at Ray's chest.

"New one," he said, poking Ray's ribs not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make Ray flinch. 

He followed Snart's gaze: another day, another bruise. "Kendra," he said, letting the single word do all his explaining.

Snart's mouth twisted. "Punched you in the heart good, didn't she?"

Bile rose to Ray's throat. He swallowed it back down. "It's not standard procedure. Maybe Gideon could give us all a First Aid refresher course."

"Oh, I think she got exactly what she wanted out of it." The drawl was out in full force, but before Ray could ask him what he meant, Snart was pulling off his own shirt and Ray was instantly distracted.

Snart's torso was smooth like marble and even though Ray knew how much heat Snart pumped out of his body, he couldn't help but imagine that he'd be cold to the touch. Cold to the core. He couldn't resist putting out a hand to rest against skin, letting his fingers spread across the hard muscle of Snart's chest. Hot. Ray couldn't shake the cognitive dissonance; it left him breathless, his chest too tight. He squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head as if it could bring the two halves of his thoughts back together.

"I don't meet with your approval? How ever will I go on?"

"No. I...I…" Ray scrambled to avoid explaining himself. "I just…" He let his fingers track over the raised blue lines under Snart's collarbone where a crude design of the Ace of Spades was etched. The tattoo was blurred now: years old. "I never took you for a tattoo kind of guy."

"You didn't?"

Ray shrugged. "Probably if I'd ever given it any thought."

Snart looked down at Ray's hand. "Mick did it. I was fourteen and scared. He had a Walkman and a sharpened staple and a code all of his own. Those were the days. The kind where if you avoided hepatitis you were a hero."

Snart's eyes darkened and Ray cast about for something else, anything else to say to distract him from his thoughts. He caught sight of another tattoo on the inside of Snart's upper arm. "Lisa," it said, with a date underneath.

"Good way to never forget your sister's birthday," he said with his breeziest smile. "I thought she was older."

"Not her birthday."

Strike one. His smile dropped. "I'm sorry," he offered. It seemed like the right thing to say.

"Stop talking." Snart moved back off Ray's legs, standing, and started to unbuckle his pants. "Get naked."

Ray swallowed. Snart rarely showed any skin at all and now Ray was going to get the whole thing? He wasn't sure he was mentally prepared for this. Not even a little bit.

" _Raymond_."

Ray shook himself into action, shifting his ass forward and shoving his pants down over his hips and knees so they slid down his shins and pooled around his ankles. He didn't care if he looked ridiculous because Snart was naked in front of him except for a pair of unlaced boots and it was one of the hottest things Ray had ever seen. Every part of him seemed to slide with grace and ease into the next, his body strong and powerful without fanfare or vanity. His cock, half erect, pointed directly at Ray's crotch like Snart was divining for him. Jesus. How was Ray supposed to keep his cool around that?

"Come back here." Ray's voice came out with a croak, stomach churning at his temerity. Snart hadn't shown any propensity for following his orders up till now. What made him think this time would be any different? He kept his eyes on Snart, spreading his legs apart, wrapping his hand around his own swelling cock and stroking it. 

For a second there was a genuine smile on Snart's face and then it vanished as if it had never been, his gaze sweeping down Ray's legs. "That would be hotter if I didn't think you're about one misstep away from falling flat on your face. Do I have to do everything around here?"

Snart bent and yanked Ray's pants off the rest of the way. "Better." 

Ray felt a laugh bubbling at the back of his throat, but it was cut off by Snart crawling on top of him and settling himself down, cock trailing down Ray's belly as he kissed him again, hips shifting in tiny rocking motions. Ray took his hand from between them and grabbed the bed covers to balance himself. Snart shifted and, oh fuck, now Ray's cock was sliding under him, the friction enough to bring him to full hardness, but falling tantalizingly short of what he needed. 

Snart reached between his legs and gave Ray's cock a squeeze. He sat back. "Looks like you're ready."

"Ready for what?"

"You're going to fuck me now."

Ray's eyes widened. This wasn't how he'd ever thought this would go, not that he was going to admit to thinking about it at all. "You want me to-"

"I'm not writing you an essay. Just put your dick in my ass. It's not complicated." He rose up on his knees, positioning himself over Ray's cock that bobbed ready and waiting.

Ray grabbed Snart's hips to still him. "Condoms? Lube? There are things we-"

"No."

Ray's fingers dug in harder. "Are you kidding?"

Snart stared down at him. "What, you think I can't handle it?" He batted Ray's cock so that it swung against his thigh. "That?"

Ray arched an eyebrow. "Oh, I wouldn't. I might have doubts about a whole range of issues, but the size of my dick is something I'm pretty secure about and it's going nowhere without adequate preparation. I've picked up too many emergency antibiotic prescriptions, thank you very much."

"Quit being a whiny baby. I'm the one taking it. I want it to h- I _want_ it. C'mon. Come _on_." Snart squeezed Ray's cock again, harder this time, his other fist thudding into the hollow under Ray's collarbone. He lifted his chin, jaw set, breath coming fast and shallow. 

Ray winced. He'd already been dead today and thought that it couldn't get any worse, but this was definitely going nowhere good. "No."

"Pl-" The word was bitten off, but not before Ray heard the desperation in Snart's tone, saw pain flicker across his face before being swallowed by blankness again. 

The hurt echoed in Ray's chest. Part of him wanted to dive in, straighten out the tangled mess in Snart's head until it lay ragged-edged but safe to touch. A larger part was afraid of the monsters he would find in the middle of it all. He needed all his fingers.

So he said, "I'm not going to be used as a torture weapon. It won't make you feel better."

"I said it's okay. I'm asking you nicely, Raymond."

"No."

Ray felt Snart's body tremble as he tensed his muscles. 

"Maybe I won't be so nice," he said, voiced laced with darkness. "Maybe I'll just-"

"You're not going to do that," Ray interrupted. "It's not who you are. If it were, you wouldn't be this twisted up about Mick."

"Fuck you!" Snart flung himself off of Ray, swiveling around so his back thudded against the wall of the cabin. "I ask you to do one thing and you can't even get that right."

Ray kept his tone light. "Hey, no fair. I saved your life today."

Snart let out a heavy breath. "So you did."

"Almost died too. Actually, I did a bit." 

There was a short silence and Ray was contemplating how to fill it when Snart said slowly, as if the words were reluctant to leave his mouth, "I never thanked you, did I?"

"For saving your life? No."

"So maybe you did manage to get something right for once. Way to go, Picard."

Picard. And there it was, the validation he'd been waiting for, even if Snart had laced it liberally with his usual sarcastic drawl. Ray had thought he'd feel better for it, getting Snart to acknowledge he had some worth to the team, but he didn't. Maybe because he'd had to push for it. Maybe because it didn't feel real. None of this did.

"You're welcome," he said. "Go team."

Snart didn't reply. For a while they sat without talking, Ray getting progressively colder and more awkward with each passing second. The weight of Snart's unhappiness was a heavy blanket across his shoulders. If it had been anyone else on the ship, Mick excepted of course, Ray would probably take their hand to offer quiet comfort. But things were too complicated between the two of them, too confusing: the short distance between them was miles of difficult terrain, scattered with landmines and hidden barbed wire and Ray was missing the map of the safe route through.

Instead he leaned towards Snart until their shoulders were almost touching. He'd extended the invitation and it was up to Snart to close the gap if he wanted to. More minutes ticked by. Enough for Ray to consider what the etiquette of getting redressed was and what message it would send to the guy he'd refused to fuck. Then he heard the dull slide of skin over metal. The touch of Snart's shoulder on his was almost imperceptible, but undeniably present. Ray gave him a count of sixty and then turned his head to look at him. Snart was staring off into the far distance, his eyes hooded and lips tight. From so close, Ray could see the thin lines at the corners of his eyes, reminding him that Snart had been at this life a long time. The things he'd seen. The things he'd done. Everything opposite and upside down and a million miles from Ray's own life. Was it the differences between them that kept pulling Ray to him despite common sense begging him to get, if not a grip, then at least some fingernails into reality?

"Where are we going?"

Snart jerked forward, snorting with surprise. He looked at Ray, eyebrows raised. "What? You want to have a talk? What do you think this is? _The Bachelor?_ "

Ray's own eyebrows shot up then, whole body flushing with horrified embarrassment. "No! That's really not- Wow. Okay. I see how- No. I meant where are you taking Mick?"

Snart turned away. "It doesn't matter."

Like hell it doesn't, Ray thought. It was only one of the most significant decisions of Snart's life. "Whatever you say. Look, admit it or not, I know how tough this must be for you. I can pull Car- the other bunk down if you want to rest for a while and not be alone."

Snart sighed, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. Ray wanted to reach out and track the curve of his spine. He shoved the hand most likely to offend under his ass.

"You're really not going to fuck me?"

Ray shrugged, mentally apologizing to his penis for being his own cockblocker. "Sorry. I'll probably regret it later, but you're hurting enough already. We could do it my way if you like?"

"No," Snart growled, looking back at Ray over his shoulder with a glare that would have killed Ray a month ago. "Goddamn Boy Scout. Don't you ever get sick of being the perfect gentleman?"

Ray shrugged again, not trusting himself to answer that question. He watched Snart stand and dress. "I take it you're not staying."

"Nothing for me here."

Ray took the blow for what it was. "I understand, you know," he said. "Just because I wouldn't- Listen, Snart...Leonard...I get why you came here, but things might need to change now I...with Kendra and everything."

Snart looked up from buttoning his fly. He held Ray's gaze for exactly long enough to make him uncomfortable, bright stare burning straight through him. His lips curled. "We'll see about it."

Ray's shoulders crawled unpleasantly. He shifted them to shake the sensation off. "Um. I get a say?"

Snart laughed then. One single exhale. He moved swiftly, leaning forward and flicking Ray on the bruise on his chest. "You keep on thinking that," he said and then was gone, the door closing on him before Ray had time to knock back the pitch with a home run worthy quip. 

"Dammit." Ray punched the mattress.

Gooseflesh rippled over Ray's body in the draft from the closing door and drew his attention to just how cold he'd allowed himself to get. He dressed quickly and climbed under the covers for good measure. He picked up his discarded tablet only to find the game failing to hold his interest. He let it drop onto his chest, closing his eyes. Immediately he was out in the black void of space, floating away from the safety of the Waverider out into the cold emptiness that had lulled him to acquiescent sleep. Ray sat up with a jolt, eyes wide open. He'd been saved. She had saved him. He hadn't asked her to, but she'd done it anyway. 

And this was why Ray had always preferred science to literature: the parallels were so damn obnoxious. Who drew a straight line between a life and death situation and sexual and romantic entanglements? Hack writing at best. His choices weren't going to be defined by clumsy metaphors, even if he'd provided them himself. If he made a go of it with Kendra it wouldn't be to escape Snart, it would be its own thing. And a different choice didn't mean death, literal or metaphorical. Possibly some light maiming... Snart was unique, that was for sure, but he was still a human being like the rest of them. Ray seriously needed to stop overthinking things.

Which reminded him, he'd had the beginnings of an idea about increasing the oxygen capacity of the suit to give him an emergency boost should he be faced with another situation like today's. He should get the basics down before he forgot them. He could start modifying the suit tomorrow unless they were Savage bound. He grabbed the tablet and started making notes. After a few minutes he raised his head. "Should've gone with something about his mom, it's a staple," he said to himself, and went back to typing.


End file.
